Stolen Genius, A Billionaire's Vow

Maso

y believed Dallas. My heart hammered, but it wasn't fear – it was pure, unadulterated rage, a searing infern

I pointed a trembling finger at Mr. Herman. "He's in on it! This entire building, this 'innovation hub,' is owned by Clifton Kramer! The greate

ink you can get away with this, Dallas?" I snarled, my voice rising with a strength I didn't know I possessed. "You think you can stea

rs, aren't you, Grace? Dreaming up fantasies. Everyone knows Clifton Kramer is a recluse. He wouldn't lift a finger for a nobody like you. And as for your 'partner'-" sh

venom. "She's clearly unstable. A public menace. Get

e too many, too strong. My few remaining personal items - a small, valuable locket, a cherished gift from Clifton - were ripped away

ade into a spectacle. Dallas, ever aware of her image, noticed the cameras. Her eyes widen

p with urgency. "Get her out of the main hall! Take

e curious stares and flashing phones. Every step was agony, my body protesting with each jarring movement. The private lounge

ped, tears of pain and fru

me, her face contorted with a mixture of disgust and triumph. "To remind you of your place. You think you can

back. Dallas leaned in, her breath hot on my face. "You were nothing without me, Grace. A meek little mouse hiding in

rable. Shame, cold and heavy, washed over me. I thrashed, desperate to break free, to cove

Dallas's cronies squarely in the jaw. He reeled back, stunned, and I saw my chance. Pushing m

shrieked, her voi

re feet slapped against the cold concrete. The pain in my side flared, my head throbbed, but adrenaline sur

n, to my partner. They would know. They would believe me. I pushed harder, my lungs burning,

path. It was Herman, the corrupt head of security, a smirk playing on his lips. My heart sank. There w

us, Grace?" Dallas taunted, her eyes burning with triumph. She took a deep, theatrical breath. "You kn

ring what little breath I had left. "You f

t as dirty, aren't you? Where did you get that fancy ring, Grace? Who did you have to sleep with to afford that 'modest' lifestyle of yours

the service area. My car. My beautiful, newly acquired car, a gift from my partner upon my return. Herman produced a

what else our little fraud is hiding." Her cronies began systematically rans

med, struggling against Herma

d beside it, a framed photo – a picture of me and my partner, locked in a joyful embrace

photo for Dallas to see. "Her 'modest' life. And l

rise, then quickly hardening into pure venom. She tore the picture in half, tossing the pieces to the

r cover curled and blackened, the scent of burning paper filling the air. My heart felt like it was being

was broken, humiliated, violated. Everything I held dear, everything I had rebuilt, was being systemati

oss me. You lose everything. And this is just the beginning." She turned to her goons, a

ckage of my car and my life, a deep, resonant voice cu

s name is hap

t of fury. It was a voice I knew, a voice that had always filled me w

he took in the scene. His gaze swept over the burning car, the scattered debris, and final

Thank goodness you're here! This woman, Grace Mason, she's absolutely deranged! She crashed the launch, attacked me, and then set her own

on me, his beautiful Grace, crumpled and broken. His jaw tightened, a muscle throbbing in his

orce that sent the burly man stumbling. His hands, usually so gentle, roughly grabbed my shoulders, turning me to face him. He recoiled, his face bla

is voice trembling with